March Event: Mother's Day
by JailyForever
Summary: All one shots/drabbles will feature relationships between mothers and their children or grandmothers and grandchildren.
1. Monster - MaryTomRiddleJr

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Mary Riddle/Tom Riddle Junior

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Mistake

 **Gringotts:** HP Locations – Wool's Orphanage; Nouns – Hood, Smog, Road, South, Family, Name, Mistake, Shack, Conversation, Chance, Effort, Legacy, Husband, Mother, Shock, Birth, Photograph, Journey, Sorrow, Grave, Patch, Roof, Rat, Scene, Pain, Skirt, Decision, Visitor, Grandchildren, Grandson, Grandfather, Grandmother; Adjectives – Another, Private, Unfortunate, Fateful, Initial, Horrific, Alive, Narrow, Bland, Opposite, Long, Black, Related, Tight; Verbs – Tarnish, Uncover, Interact, Exist, Depart, Chase, Remain, Destroy, Remove, Return, Seek, Listen; Compound Words – Anyone, Understatement, Grandchildren, Grandson, Grandfather, Grandmother, Inside, Himself; Family Vocab – Grandchildren, Husband, Mother,

 **Word Count:** 1448

* * *

Monster

Mary Riddle drew her hood closer around her face as she briskly walked down the smog filled cobbled road in south London.

The last thing she wanted was to be recognised by anyone and tarnish the Riddle family name even more than it already had been done by her son.

It had been seven years since her son's fateful mistake in marrying that disgusting psycho from the shack, so to say she was surprised when her name cropped up in conversation a few weeks previously would be an understatement.

Mary and her husband had been lamenting over the fact that Tom had all but given up on the idea of marriage, despite their many encouraging words towards him that Cecilia would give him another chance if only he made more of an effort with her.

When her stubborn son had refused point blank Mary had the most unfortunate and unbecoming outburst about how she wanted to have grandchildren to carry on the Riddle name and legacy.

Mary had been most taken aback when her son had angrily informed her that if his ex wife had been telling the truth then she already had one.

Once she had recovered from the initial shock of discovering she could have a grandchild out there, who could very easily be corrupted by the woman who had bewitched her son, Mary hired a private investigator to uncover the truth of the matter.

And last week she finally got her answer after a couple of weeks of nervous waiting. She had a grandson who was named after his father and grandfather, Tom, and he was residing in an orphanage in London. According to the private investigator the mother had died mere moments after giving birth. That very fact broke Mary's heart; Merope Gaunt may have been a man stealing hussy, but no child deserved to grow up without knowing a mother's love. She was determined to make sure he had all the love he needed and bring him into her family.

With that in mind and a small photograph of the boy who was the spitting image of her son at that age, Mary had started making preparations for her journey south.

She glanced up and saw the shabby wooden sign that read Wool's Orphanage and sorrow filled her heart. Mary couldn't begin to imagine the horrific conditions that she would find inside.

"A Riddle growing up in this place," she muttered to herself. "My Tom's father would be turning in his grave if he was still alive."

Mary raised her hand and rapped three times on the door and waited.

A harried woman with sharp features appeared at the door moments later.

"Mrs Riddle I presume," she greeted her with a smile on her face.

Mary nodded her head curtly, and followed the middle aged woman inside the orphanage that appeared to be just as shabby on the inside as it was on the outside.

The out of date wallpaper was peeling away from the wall, the wooden floorboards appeared as though they hadn't been scrubbed well in a long time and they creaked quietly with every step she took, and there was a patch of damp on the roof that looked as though it should have been tended to years ago

I have to get my grandson out of this place, she thought to herself as she noticed a rat scurrying across the floor out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll take you through to the day room where you can see Tom," Mrs Cole told her, not sounding at all phased by the fact that they had rats.

Their heels clacked quietly against the dusty floorboards as Mrs Cole led her down a narrow corridor, and opened the bland beige door to the day room.

"That's Tom over there in the corner," Mrs Cole informed her pointing towards the lonely boy who was staring at two girls playing ring a ring a roses in the centre of the room. "He keeps very much to himself and doesn't interact much with the other children."

Just as Mary was about to form a response one of the girls suddenly collapsed to the ground and started to fit.

"That's little Amy Benson," Mrs Cole told her quietly. "She has seizures every now and then. Nothing to worry about. Martha knows how to help her."

As Mrs Cole informed her of this, the young woman who was standing on the opposite side of the room raced over towards the little girl and attempted to restrain her.

Her eyes flickered away from the horrific scene of the fitting girl and towards her grandson who had stepped out of the shadows and was looking at the girl with a cold and menacing stare.

Before that moment, Mary had never thought it possible for magic to exist but one glance at Tom told her all she needed to know. He was the one inflicting the pain on that poor little girl.

How is he doing that? Mary thought to herself as she looked at the young boy who was staring intensely at the young girl convulsing on the ground. He's just as strange if not worse than that good for nothing mother of his, and completely beyond redemption.

Just looking at him now, Mary knew that there was no way on God's green earth she would bring that abomination into her home.

When she returned she would inform her husband that as he predicted it had been a wasted journey and that the private investigator had hoodwinked her. There was no point in breaking his heart by telling him what a little terror he was.

Mary turned to the lady showing her the room and said, "I think I've seen enough."

As the two ladies left the room, Tom's focus on the little girl broke and he whipped around just in time to see the long black skirt of Mary depart the room.

He didn't know why but he had a strange feeling that he was connected to her somehow and that she had betrayed him. His eyes remained focused for a few beats on the spot where she had been stood moments ago before he made the impulsive decision to chase after them.

He ran down the corridor that led towards the front door and stopped just in the shadows of the staircase.

"Thank you Mrs Riddle. Are you quite sure you wish for Tom to remain here?" Mrs Cole asked quietly.

Tom was no idiot and he could hear the hope in her voice. She wanted the woman to take him. The woman who was a Riddle, just like he was. Could they be related?

He strained his ears to listen for more, growing more and more curious about the visitor.

"I'm quite sure. He seems happy enough and to be honest he would not fit in with our family," the woman replied in a frank voice. "Grandson or not, I cannot allow him to destroy what is left of our good name."

Tom felt his eyes darken as he thought of all the terrible things that could befall the woman who had searched for him and then decided she didn't want him.

All of a sudden, Mrs Riddle began to choke and gasp for breath. Her hand reached for the doorframe as she doubled over.

Go on, die you horrible woman, Tom thought to himself as he stepped out the shadows and revealed himself to them.

"Tom, stop this at once," Mrs Cole cried, recognising the look in his eye. It was the look he always had when terrible things happened to other people.

"I'm not doing anything," Tom replied in a cold voice, his eyes never leaving Mrs Riddle. "She is. She's a grandmother who doesn't want her grandson. She deserves it."

Two hands suddenly grasped Tom from behind and pulled him backwards and towards his room.

He kicked his legs and struggled to remove himself from the tight grasp of the man restraining him as he lost sight of Mrs Riddle.

A couple of moments after the boy was out of sight Mary felt her breathing begin to return to normal and her eyes snapped towards Mrs Cole, before she wrenched open the door and fled from the Wool's Orphanage.

The woman half ran and half walked for several blocks before she finally paused to catch her breath.

She didn't know how and she didn't know why but she was quite certain that her grandson had just attempted to kill her.

He was a monster, and she could only hope that boy would never try to seek her or her family out.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review.**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	2. Attempted Bribe - MaryMerope

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Mary Riddle/Merope Gaunt

 **Chocolate Frog:** Silver – Merope Gaunt – Challenge – Write about Merope Gaunt either before or during her pregnancy with Tom Riddle.

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Spell

 **Word Count:** 836

* * *

Attempted Bribe

No, her son did not just tell her that he planned to marry that filthy, disgusting low born psycho.

Mary Riddle shook her head in complete denial as her son grasped hold of _that girl's_ hand and grinned like a fool.

"But what of Cecilia, Tom?" Mary asked after a few moments of silence, still unable to wrap her head around the idea of having scum in the family.

Tom sighed and gave a sideways glance to his love. He knew how much it pained her to know that he had once desired and been betrothed to another.

"She is not the one I love mother," he replied coolly, tightening his grasp on Merope's hand. "Perhaps if I left you and Merope alone together to get to know each other better and you will be able to better understand why I wish to marry her. I can assure you that you will come to adore her almost as much as I."

Mary sighed heavily. She knew her son would not listen to reason now that he was under that witch's spell, but perhaps she could work a little magic of her own on the scum.

She nodded her head curtly and observed as he gave the woman a kiss on the cheek and swiftly depart the room.

As her son walked away she invited Merope to join her on the floral couch and forced a sickly sweet smile on her face.

As soon as she was sure Tom was out of earshot, her smile turned into a snarl and she narrowed her eyes at the woman before her.

"I do not know how you did it, and quite frankly I do not care, but I am warning you now, you are nothing more than a passing fantasy to him. Why not save you both a world of pain and end this before you both get hurt," Mary hissed at her quickly, eyeing the door out of the corner of her eye. "I will of course provide you with enough money so that you can set yourself up in a town far, far away from here and of course my son, with a little bit left over."

"Mrs Riddle, I love your son," Merope responded in a hurt voice. "I can assure you I do not want your money. No amount of money would be enough to make me leave my Tom."

Mary quickly stood up from her position on the couch and stood tall and proud above disgusting creature, giving the girl her most intimidating look.

"Very well then, you leave me no choice," Mary answered in a cold tone. "Let's see how well you and my son cope when you have no money. I can assure _you_ that after less than a week living in squalor he will come to realise what a terrible mistake he has made and come running home."

"Mother what is the meaning of this?" her son's voice sounded from the doorway. "How could you think of attempting to convince my love to leave me."

Mary released Merope from her icy stare and whipped around to face Tom, her features softening at the sight of him.

"Tom – " she started.

"Save it mother," he spat fiercely. "Come my love we are leaving. As long as I have you, I have no need for money or possessions."

Mary watched with pained eyes as her son knocked her favourite china vase off the side table, and then held his hand out to _that girl_ who went running into his arms.

As her son led her from the room, Merope turned to face Mary and whispered, "Mrs Riddle I wish things could have been different. I promise you, I will endeavour to make him change his mind."

Mary shot daggers at the girl with her eyes and hissed, "I don't need anything from you, you – you – you whore. My son will come home when he sees you for what you are. Now get out of my sight."

As soon as that girl and her son had left the room, Mary broke down into tears.

She cried for the son she had lost to the Gaunt girl, that scrubby little tart from across the hill.

She cried for the loss of the beautiful Cecilia as her future daughter in law. Her and Tom would have made such adorable babies.

But most of all, she cried over the fact that she should have done more to prevent it from happening. She had known the girl had been after Tom and she had known that she was far from normal. She should have encouraged Tom to stop taking that stretch of road.

Unfortunately she had not and now he was gone, and despite her earlier confidence Mary wasn't at all sure whether Tom would return home at all, especially since that girl had him completely bewitched and under her control.

Her only hope was that Tom was strong enough to fight it before it was too late.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	3. Request - MaryTomRiddleSr

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Mary Riddle/Tom Riddle Senior

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Assumption

 **Gringotts:** Family Vocab – Daughter-in-law; Compound Words – Doorway, Inside, Afternoon; Nouns – Side, Head, Study, Sound, Assumption, Demeanour, Surprise, Blessing, Landscape, Painting, Safe; Adjectives – Pleasant, Entire; Verbs – Owe, Come, Sense, Mention

 **Word Count:** 349

* * *

Request

"Mother, may I have a word?" Tom requested quietly from the doorway of her study.

Mary lifted her head from her needlework at the sound of her son's voice and placed it to one side.

"Of course Tom, come on in," she answered brightly, beckoning her son inside. "You have my complete and undivided attention."

She smiled brilliantly as she noticed that her son had a daft grin on his chiselled face and a spring in his step that he only ever seemed to have after seeing Cecilia; however she could sense that there was more to his demeanour than usual and she was intrigued as to the reason why.

"So to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" she asked as her son sat down next to her on the couch. "I was under the assumption you would be spending the entire afternoon with your Cecelia."

The daft grin on Tom's face noticeably broadened at the mention of his love's name.

"That is actually the reason for my visit mother," he answered as he fiddled nervously with his cufflinks. "I was wondering if you still had grandmother's engagement ring."

Mary felt her face spread into a huge smile as she asked, "Does this mean what I think it means Tom?"

Tom nodded his head. "Yes mother, I'm going to ask Cecilia to be my wife. I guess from the way your face lit up I have your blessing."

"Of course you do son," Mary exclaimed softly. "Cecilia is a delightful young woman. I could not wish for a better daughter-in-law."

Mary stood up from her place on the couch and walked over towards the wall and removed the landscape painting from it to reveal a safe. She twisted the dial four times, and opened the door and quickly removed the small velvet box before closing it again.

She paced back over towards her son and passed him the small object.

"Make me proud my sweet boy," she told him as she kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

"I will mother, I promise," he answered before leaving the room.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know what you thought in a review**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	4. Somewhere to Stay - EuphemiaSirius

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Euphemia Potter/Sirius Black

 **Chocolate Frog:** Gold – Sirius Black – Challenge – Write about Sirius Black

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Noise

 **Gringotts:** Nouns – Sound, Curtains, Gown, Hook, Trunk, Teenager, Drink, Clothes, Weather, Mug, Chocolate, Room, Mischief, Havoc, Note; Adjective – Loud, Faint, Blurry, Comfortable, Fluffy, Pink, Large, Hot, Dry, Second, Spare, Dynamic, Extra, Mental; Verbs – Come, Impose, Finish, Save; Compound Words – Outline

 **Word Count:** 544

* * *

Somewhere to Stay

Euphemia's eyes flew open at the sound of a loud banging coming from somewhere on the outside.

The witch carefully turned over on her side to get comfortable again and closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the noise

After several minutes the knocking still hadn't ceased so Euphemia rose from her bed and padded over to the window and opened the curtains slightly. She squinted her eyes slightly and could just make out the faint, blurry outline of someone stood on her doorstep.

Figuring that no one in their right mind would pay a house call at this ungodly hour unless it was something important, Euphemia let go of the curtain and made her way towards the bedroom door, removed her fluffy pink dressing gown from the hook and shrugged it on.

The elderly woman then walked through the house towards the door to answer the ever insistent knock.

She wondered who would be calling at their house at this time.

The elderly woman flung open the front door to find a shaking and drenched Sirius Black with a half forlorn and half gleeful look on his face with a large trunk by his feet.

"Oh my goodness Sirius, come in," Euphemia whispered, ushering the shivering teenager into her house. "You must be freezing. Come, come, let's get you a hot drink and dry your clothes."

Sirius smiled warmly at the elder woman he wished he had the honour of calling mother and stepped over the threshold. Before following her to the kitchen he drew his wand out and cast a charm to dry his clothes. The last thing he wanted was to cause a mess in his second mother's immaculate home.

"What on earth were you thinking coming all this way at this hour, and in this weather? You could have got sick." Euphemia chastised as she placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of him.

Sirius looked down at the piping hot mug and raised it to his lips and muttered between sips, "Mum – Dad - Big fight - Disowned."

"Oh honey," Euphemia whispered giving her second son a warm hug and rubbing his back gently. "You know you are always more than welcome to live here Sirius."

"I wouldn't want to impose on you Mrs Potter," Sirius replied quietly.

"Nonsense young man, you are family. You are staying with us and that is final," Euphemia told him sternly. "Now finish your hot chocolate whilst I go and make up a bed for you in the living room. We can save telling James about your surprise arrival until tomorrow."

"Thank you Mrs Potter," Sirius answered before he took a long sip from his cup.

"There's no thanks necessary," Euphemia replied with a slight shake of her head before leaving the young wizard alone with his thoughts.

As Euphemia made the bed, the witch briefly wondered what she had let herself in for especially since she knew full well what kind of mischief the dynamic duo could get up to. She made a mental note to talk to her husband in the morning about adding an extra room to the house so that in the evenings at least the two 'angels' wouldn't be able to wreak too much havoc.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	5. Hesitant Admission - MrsPotterEuphemia

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Euphemia Potter/Mrs Potter

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Rule

 **Gringotts:** Family Vocab – Adoption; Nouns – Hand, Mouth, Subject, Seat, Plate, Family, Rule, Chance, Pattern, Wall, Name, Age, Process, Husband, Wife, Topic, Idea; Adjectives – Interesting, Uncomfortable, Unfortunate; Verbs – Raise, Explore, Reject, Prove

 **Word Count:** 510

* * *

Hesitant Admission

"When are you and my son finally going to give Henry and I grandchildren?" her mother-in-law asked bluntly. "We aren't getting any younger, and quite frankly my dear neither are you."

The fork that Euphemia was just raising to her mouth slipped from her hand and clattered onto the plate.

"Did you know that by the time I was your age I had already given birth to four sons?" she commented

Euphemia shifted awkwardly in her seat as she shook her head. The subject of Seraphine and Henry's other children was something that Fleamont had only ever mentioned once before in passing, and it was an unspoken rule that it was not a topic of discussion even amongst family.

How could she tell her mother-in-law, whom she loved so dearly, that she and Fleamont had all but given up on the idea of having children? Especially since she knew how much Seraphine had always wanted grandchildren and that Fleamont and herself were her only chance.

Her mouth opened and closed as she attempted to figure out how best to answer the question whilst fighting back the tears in her eyes.

"Mrs Potter – " Euphemia began, looking at an interesting pattern on the wall behind her.

"Call me Seraphine please Euphemia," she insisted, holding her hand up.

Euphemia nodded her head. It wasn't the first time her mother-in-law had insisted she call her by her first name and she was sure it would not be the last. The witch always felt quite uncomfortable addressing her by her Christian name.

"Okay Seraphine, I – um – may never be able to have - children," Euphemia admitted quietly, lowering her eyes to her plate. "Fleamont and I have been trying since day one but we um –"

Euphemia stopped talking as the tears she had been holding back spilled over and she threw her head in to her hands.

"Oh Euphemia, don't cry, if it is meant to be, it will be," Seraphine whispered, moving around the table and embracing her daughter-in-law tightly. "And you know this is not the 1800's anymore. I've heard that someone at the Ministry has suggested implementing a process known as adoption, whereby a husband and wife can take unfortunate young witches and wizards into their homes and raise them as their own. Apparently muggles have been doing it for a couple of decades now and it seems to be quite successful. Perhaps you could explore that avenue once they legalise it."

"Seraphine, that is a lovely idea and Fleamont and I have discussed it but do you really think the Ministry of Magic will ever legalise it?" she asked, knowing the Ministry was known for its lack of progression and forward thinking. It was almost a given that they would reject the idea.

"Never say never, Euphemia," Seraphine chastised. "Stranger things that happened."

Little did Euphemia know that her mother-in-law's words would prove to be truer than she had thought on that day, when thirty years later she became pregnant with her son who she would name James Potter.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	6. Taken - ViolettaMarius

**A/N:**

 **Written as part of an assignment and for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) **

**Task:** Write about a canonical mother who was attacked when she was holding her baby child, and is searching in vain for him/her.

 **Extra Prompts:** (clothing) Black dress, black cloak, like the clothes of mourning, (dialogue) "I'll find, you. I'll always find you.", (location) Woods/forest

 **Relationship:** Violetta/Marius

 **Chocolate Frog:** Bronze – Silvanus Kettleburn – Prompts – Forest, Reckless

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Heart

 **Gringotts:** Nouns – Dress, Cloak, Cot, Blanket, Tear, Witch, Forest, Decision, Moment, Society, Relationship, Forehead, Twig, Pocket, Haste, Thunder, Leaves, Rain, Home, Pace, Bed, Will, Coincidence, Radius, Piece, Pain, Side, Ear, Direction, Root, Mirror, Dirt, Gravel, State, Hair, Soil, Cat, Path, Heart, Sky, Bundle, Cluster; Adjectives – Whole, Gone, Perfect, Last, Progressive, Thankful, Fine, Sweet, Brisk, Capable, Anonymous, Vulnerable, Precious, Sharp, Thick, Dead, Ultimate, Same; Verbs – Believe, Imagine, Discover, Take, Jump, Spin, Leave, Clap, Rustle, Wail, Worry, Protect, Go, Pull, Fail, Find, Hear, Rush, Swallow, Breathe, Turn, Stumble, Save; Compound Words – Without, Nearby, Whoever, Anywhere; Colour – Baby blue

 **Word Count:** 1543

* * *

Taken

Violetta sat in the rocking chair dressed in her black dress and cloak, clutching her beautiful angel's favourite baby blue blanket close to her chest and staring at Marius' cot.

It had been three days since the attack; three days since she had last held her perfect baby boy in her arms; and three days she had last felt whole.

It was hard for her to believe that there was once a time when she couldn't imagine wanting him in her life but now that he was gone Violetta couldn't imagine not having him in her life at all.

It no longer mattered to her that Marius could easily be the product of rape, or be a half blood; she loved him just as much a she loved her other two children.

Marius was her youngest child, her baby boy and he was gone.

A tear leaked from her eye as she realised that she should have taken the threatening notes more seriously, and the witch thought back to the moment she her child was ripped from her arms.

* * *

Violetta walked through the forest after getting into an argument with her husband, Cygnus, over his decision to send Pollux and Cassiopeia away for two weeks to his parents' house without discussing it with her first.

She knew that in accordance with society she shouldn't have any say, but Violetta had thought that their relationship was better than that. She had thought that they were a more progressive couple, and she was dismayed to discover that she was wrong.

She was, however, thankful that she still had Marius with her.

Violetta jostled her young son in her arms, kissed him gently on the forehead and stoked his fine black hair.

"No one is ever going to take you from me my sweet boy," she muttered quietly.

A loud noise that sounded like a twig snapping nearby made the witch jump and spin around on the spot.

She found nothing there and internally cursed herself for being so jumpy. Nevertheless she felt it necessary to have her wand at the ready just in case. Only a year ago she had learnt that the woods were not the safest of places to be.

Violetta shifted Marius to one side and felt around in the inside pocket of her cloak. As she rooted around without success she realised that in her haste to leave the house she had left it in the kitchen.

There was a clap of thunder, the leaves began to rustle loudly, and Marius began to wail in her arms.

"No need to worry Marius, mummy doesn't need a wand to protect herself," she cooed in his ear as she rubbed his back soothingly, not believing her own words for a second. "Shall we go home before the rain starts to pour baby?"

Violetta smiled to herself at the responding soft and agreeing coo of her son, and she turned around and set a brisk pace back towards the house.

As she walked along the dusty path, the witch began to get an uneasy feeling that she was being followed and subconsciously sped up her pace.

The sooner she got home, the sooner she could feel capable of keeping her baby safe. Violetta hated being without her wand and being completely defenceless.

Just as the house she shared with Cygnus came into view, a hand covered her mouth and pulled her backwards. Violetta drew Marius closer to her and dug her feet into ground in an unsuccessful attempt to halt the movement.

Her feet dragged across the leafy bed of the forest as her attacker continued to pull her against her will. Her body was flooded with fear as she thought back to the anonymous notes that had been arriving every day without fail since her baby had been born. Surely this couldn't be a coincidence.

Her attacker grabbed her hair and placed his lips to her ear and hissed, "Remember what I said Violetta, I'll find you. I'll always find you."

Her cries for help got caught in the back of her throat as she froze with fear. There was only one other time she had felt as vulnerable as she did in that moment, and that was the day her precious Marius may or may not have been conceived.

"Please, no," she gasped as her attacker pulled Marius from her arms. He was wailing loudly enough for anyone to hear within at least a five mile radius.

Maybe her husband would hear her baby's cries and rush out to find her before anything awful happened.

That was the last thought Violetta Black had before a sharp blow to the head knocked her unconscious.

* * *

Violetta sat up with a start and scrambled around the deserted piece of forest in an attempt to get her bearings, ignoring the throbbing pain on the side of her head.

Marius.

Where was Marius?

Where was her baby boy?

She had him with her when she was attacked and dragged through the woods.

Violetta rose to her feet and turned around on the spot, realising that she had no idea where she was or how long she had been there for. All she knew for certain was that her child was gone, taken from her arms and it was all her fault.

How could she have so foolish as to leave her wand at home?

How could she have been foolish enough to put her baby in harm's way?

How could she have been so reckless?

Violetta wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her whole, but she knew that that was no way for her to get Marius back.

Which way should she go though?

Whoever had taken her son could be anywhere by now.

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and decided to head in the direction that she was certain led further away from her house.

Violetta pushed the branches out of the way as she ran through the thick cluster of trees, straining her ears for any sounds.

Every so often she would trip and stumble over the root of a tree in her haste to move through the woods. If she was to look in a mirror right now she was sure she would look a right state with a few small holes in his black tights, dirt all over her hands and face, and a couple of twigs caught in her hair.

The sound of movement over gravel captured Violetta's attention and she snapped her head to her right.

"Marius," she cried, running towards the noise, desperately hoping she was hurrying towards her son.

Her eyes remained firmly on the ground as she jogged, seeing nothing more than soil, twigs and leaves, and in the near distance a small tabby cat.

Realising that the noise she had heard had just been a cat, the witch dejectedly continued on her path.

The longer she walked, the more she felt like a fist was tightening its grip around her heart making it harder and harder for her to breathe.

Violetta searched high and low for Marius for hours, crying out loud for her son but to no avail. He was nowhere to be found.

As the sky darkened she knew that she would eventually have to turn around and go home, but she didn't know if she could face the humiliation of having to tell her husband that she had allowed their son to be taken from her arms by what she assumed was some filthy muggle.

It was a conversation she was not looking forward to in the least.

* * *

"Look who I found," Cygnus said, entering the bedroom and drawing Violetta from her thoughts.

The witch lifted her head and looked at her husband with dead eyes that lit up as soon as they fell on the small bundle in his arms.

"Marius," Violetta exclaimed jumping up from the rocking chair and rushing over to her husband and scoping her son out of his arms. "Mummy promises she will never let you out of her sight again."

* * *

Violetta would never find out that her husband was the one who attacked her and choreographed the entire situation that would lead to the abduction of her child. His aim was to teach her a lesson after he had found out about what considered to be the ultimate betrayal by allowing a filthy muggle to touch her.

She would, however, discover as the years progressed and her child grew up that her husband was without a shadow of a doubt not the father of her son. Whenever anyone would comment on how dissimilar they looked Violetta would deflect and state that Marius simply got his looks from her side of the family.

By the time her son turned eleven, Violetta realised that whilst she cared for Marius she found it increasingly more difficult to show him the same amount of love she did for her other children, especially when it was becoming more and more apparent by the day that he possessed no magical ability.

She would find herself wishing that her husband had never found Marius, if only to save her from the shame of having it known that she produced a squib.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

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 **xoxo**


	7. Sunday Lunch - MrsScamanderPorpentina

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Mrs Scamander/Porpentina

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Approve

 **Gringotts:** Noun – Hill, New York, England, Accent, Sunday, Lady, Hug, Wall, Male, Smile, History, American, Madam, Future; Adjective – Grand, Beautiful, Amazing, Talented, Sure, Wide, New, Warm, Tight, Previous; Verb – Agree, Approve, Adore, Provide, Exaggerate, Insist; Compound Words – Homeland

 **Word Count:** 603

* * *

Sunday Lunch

Newt and his new girlfriend Porpentina approached the grand house on the hill and knocked briskly on the front door.

The Magizoologist hadn't be able to believe his luck when he met Porpentina in New York, and even more so when she had agreed to date him, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that she would uproot herself from her homeland and agree to move to England with him.

And now, three weeks after the move he was going to be introducing his mother to the delightful woman.

Porpentina shifted nervously next to him and he rubbed her back soothingly as they waited for someone to answer the door.

"There is no need to be nervous love," he whispered quietly.

"But what if your mother does not approve of me?" she asked in her thick New York accent.

"How could she not approve of you?" Newt said. "You are a beautiful, amazing, and talented witch who I love. My mother is going to adore you."

"Are you sure?" Porpentina questioned as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Before Newt could provide her with an answer the front door opened and they were greeted by the sight of his mother dressed in her Sunday best.

"Newton," she greeted, wrapping her arms around her son. "It is so good to see you again."

She released him from her grip and turned to face Porpentina.

"And this must be your new lady friend," she guessed, taking her in for an equally warm and tight hug. "It is so lovely to finally meet you. Newton has talked most highly of you in his letters, and I can see he did not exaggerate about your beauty."

"And he you Mrs Scamander," Porpentina replied as she released her from the hug and led them inside.

Propentina gazed at the many portraits that hung on the wall of all the male members of the Scamander family, and smiled internally as she noticed that they all shared the same high cheek bones and warm smile. The further along the corridor they walked the further back in time they went, and it was evident to her that the family had a lot of history with the house

"Please call me Celestia, I insist," Newt's mother said, drawing Porpentina from her thoughts.

The American glanced sideways at her boyfriend who nodded encouragingly. It pleased him to see that his mother had taken to his girlfriend so quickly.

"Okay, Celestia," she answered, feeling slightly awkward about addressing her boyfriend's mother by her first name mere minutes after meeting her, especially when her previous boyfriend's mother had insisted that she call her madam.

As the afternoon progressed at the Scamander household, Porpentina could safely say that she had never felt so welcome by another family and she could see that Newt had been absolutely right when he had told her that she had absolutely nothing to be worried about.

The conversation flew freely as Celestia peppered Porpentina about her life in New York, as well as her hopes and dreams for the future. The pair talked to each other as though they had known each others for years instead of a matter of hours.

When the time came to leave in the late hours of the Sunday evening, Celestia embraced Porpentina tightly at the front door and whispered in her ear, "I can see you make my son so happy. I hope that one day soon I will be able to call you my daughter."

Lost for words, Porpentina smiled brightly at Celestina before taking Newt's hand and apparating home.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

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 **xoxo**


	8. Breakfast in Bed - PorpentinaRolf

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Porpentina/Rolf

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Internal

 **Gringotts:** Nouns – Tray, Down, Debate, Coffee, Side, Cup, Morning, Routine, Blueberry, Pancakes, Boy; Adjectives – Internal, Hot, Delicious, Broad, Best; Verbs – Exclaim, Sense, Come, Join, Share

 **Word Count:** 302

* * *

Breakfast in Bed

"Grandmother, wake up," she heard her seven year old grandson exclaim loudly in her ear.

Her eyes flickered open and before her she saw Rolf bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet excitedly, the tray he was holding was shaking and the hot coffee was spilling over the side of the cup.

"Happy Mother's Day," he cried when he noticed that she had opened her eyes.

Porpentina could sense that her grandson was having an internal debate. He had eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes kept flickering from the tray to his grandmother and back again.

She chuckled lightly to herself as she reached for her wand and levitated the tray from her grandson's hands and set it down on the bedside table.

"Come here Rolf," she said opening her arms wide for her grandson.

He instantly jumped into her arms and gave her many hugs and kisses had become their usual morning routine ever since she had moved in with her son and daughter-in-law almost a year ago after her husband passed away.

"Are those for me?" she asked quietly in his ear.

Rolf shifted out her arms and nodded bashfully as he said, "Yes, daddy only helped with the pouring the coffee, and carrying the tray up the stairs."

"Well why don't you come and join me here and we can enjoy this delicious looking breakfast together," Porpentina requested, patting the bed next to her and levitating the tray over towards them.

"Do I see blueberry pancakes Rolf?" Porpentina asked with a broad grin.

"Yes, I made them all by myself because you are the best grandmother ever and they are your favourite," Rolf answered quietly, throwing his arms around his grandmother.

"Only when I get to share them with my best boy," Porpentina answered with a smile.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review.**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	9. Hurricane Dolores - EllenDolores

**A/N:**

 **Written as an assignment and for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Ellen Cracknell/Dolores Umbridge

 **Task:** Write about a mother or father desperately trying to get his/her children to keep the house tidy.

 **Chocolate Frog:** Silver – Elizabeth Burke – Point, Witch, Nasty, Depict

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Umbridge

 **Gringotts:** Noun – Pair, Feet, Wood, Floor, Mess, Suspicion, Point, Elbow, Form, Destruction, Villain, Comment, Leg, Hurricane, Responsibility, Chinaware, Toys, Wool, Arms, Fledgling; Adjective – Hard, Initial, Stubborn, Broken; Verb – Stop, Cause, Depict, Refuse, Clean, Take, Blame, Thrust

 **Word Count:** 612

* * *

Hurricane Dolores

Ellen heard the crash and the bang from the conservatory and knew instantly that it without a doubt would have something to do with her daughter.

A pair of feet running across the hard wood floor accompanied the sound of her son, Douglas, yelling "Muuuuuuuuuum, Dolowes make big mess" only solidified Ellen's initial suspicion.

"No I didn't, stop lying," Dolores screamed from behind him as they came to a halt in front of her.

The eleven year old girl pushed her little brother to emphasise her point, and he fell to the ground, letting out a small cry as he hit his elbow on the hard floor.

"Dolores, apologise to your brother at once," Ellen insisted, crouching down to help her youngest child to his feet.

The stubborn, fledgling witch shook her head and said, "Not until he stops lying."

The mother sighed heavily.

Every day was the same in this house. Her husband would leave her at home with the children whilst he went to work, and every day Dolores would cause some form of destruction, try to depict Douglas as the villain of the piece, and refuse to clean up after herself.

It wasn't the first time that she wished she was her husband's equal and have her daughter's respect. Ellen knew that Dolores would never talk back to him in such a fashion. As far as her daughter was concerned she was beneath her in every way possible, even more so since she received her Hogwarts letter a little over a week ago.

"What did you do Dolores?" she asked, ignoring her daughter's comment.

"Nothing, it was him."

"Wasn't," Douglas bit back, hugging his mother's leg.

Knowing that she was going to get nowhere, Ellen decided to so and investigate for herself and made her way into the conservatory, and what she found did not surprise her one iota.

There was shattered chinaware and books covering the floor. Some of her infant son's stuffed toys had had their heads torn off, and there was wool all over the place. The rest of his toys were in a similar sorry state, damaged and broken beyond repair.

One thing was absolutely clear to Ellen: Hurricane Dolores had struck again.

"Dolores Jane Umbridge, clean this mess up at once!" Ellen shrieked at her daughter, indicating towards the complete and utter destruction in the room.

"How many times mum it wasn't me it was him," Dolores answered, pointing at her three year old brother.

Ellen bent down and picked up her sweet son and held him close to her.

"Your brother would never do such a thing to his own toys," Ellen said, defending her son. "It is about time you started to take responsibility for your actions young lady."

"Why do you always blame me?" the eleven year old wailed, stamping her foot on the floor.

"Well if you behaved yourself for once then there would be nothing to blame you for," Ellen informed her daughter, trying to keep her voice even. "And for once you are going to clean up your own mess. Your aunt and uncle are coming over for dinner tonight and I do not even want to think about how I'm going to explain this."

The frustrated mother picked a broom up and thrust it into her daughter's arms, resisting the urge to hit her with it.

"I'm telling dad," Dolores hissed, narrowing her eyes at her mother as she left the room carrying her brother. "Then you'll be sorry you nasty, filthy muggle."

Ellen stopped dead in her tracks and took a deep breath, before leaving the conservatory without even dignifying her disobedient daughter with a response.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


	10. Leaving - EllenSquibSon

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Ellen Cracknell/Squib Son

 **Chocolate Frog:** Bronze – Dorcas Meadowes – Prompts – Fast, Kind hearted, Simple, Glow

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Confusion

 **Gringotts:** Noun – Ear, Sleep, Figure, Hair, Face, Love, Devotion, Back, Answer, Shame, Bag, Wardrobe, Home, Dinner, Corner, Eyes, Child, Pace, Future; Adjective – Soft, Simple, Cold, Distant, Fast; Verb – Whisper, Stay, Understand, Know, Despise, Pack, Invite, Resent, Feel, Grow; Compound Word – Kind Hearted

 **Word Count:** 505

* * *

Leaving

"Wake up Douglas," he heard his mother's soft voice whisper in his ear as he turned over in his sleep. "It's time to go."

The young child stretched and opened his eyes, squinting slightly to see the figure next to him more clearly. His mother was crouched down next to his bed dressed all in black with her hair tied back and a rucksack on her back. Her kind hearted face was peering down at him, full of love and devotion.

"I still don't understand why we have to go," he yawned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. "Why can't we stay with dad and Dolores?"

Ellen sighed as she took in the confusion written across her beautiful son's face. Surely he must know that she wouldn't take him from everything he knew unless it was absolutely necessary.

How could she explain to her eight year old that it would only be a matter of time before they were forced to leave?

How could she tell him that his father and sister were growing to despise him more and more by the day because he wasn't like them?

The answer was not a simple one, and Ellen knew that it was beyond her capabilities because she barely understood what was so wrong with not being magical, or how a family could feel shame a producing a – squib.

"I can't explain right now," Ellen told him in a hushed voice. "Did you pack a bag of clothes like I asked?"

Douglas nodded his head as he swung his legs out of his bed and padded over to his wardrobe where he had stashed his own rucksack earlier that day.

"Will I see Dad and Dolores again?" her son asked hopefully as they walked down the creaking stairs. "Perhaps when we have our new home set up we can invite them round for dinner."

Ellen was thankful that it was dark so that her son wouldn't see the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

She knew that any such invitation would be refused. Orford and Dolores would want every single tie severed and Ellen happened to feel that it was for the best, even if her son would grow up to resent her for it.

Her daughter despised everything that she was, and her husband was cold and distant. It would only be a matter of time before Douglas was on the receiving end, and she could not allow it.

"I don't know Douglas," Ellen answered as she opened the front door. "Maybe one day."

The young child grabbed hold of his mother's hand as they walked at a fast pace down the street, their way lit by the glow from the lampposts. He was curious about where they would be living now that they had left the family home and what the future would hold. The only thing he was sure of is that despite his mother's evasive and non committal answers, he would never be seeing his father or sister again.

 **A/N:**

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 **xoxo**


	11. Parent-Teacher Conference -EuphemiaJames

**A/N:**

 **Written for the March Event (Mother's Day) over on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Relationship:** Euphemia Potter/James Potter

 **Chocolate Frog:** Bronze – Benjy Fenwick – Prompts – Swift, Blink

 **1000 Word Challenge:** Shame

 **Gringotts:** Noun – Breakfast, Owl, Chaos, Mischief, Letter, Pine, Treat, Regret, Incident, Injury, Shock, Trick, Conference, Response, Expression, Seat, Hospital, Wing, Punishment, Team, Cup, Saturday, Term, Lesson, Prank; Adjective – Familiar, Elegant, Heavy, Nasty, Serious, Sharp, Good, Liberal, Appropriate, Swift, Fortunate; Verb – Exclude, Root, Learn, Support, End, Give, Remove; Charmed: Season 1 Episode 8 – (Location) Kitchen

 **Word Count:** 833

* * *

Parent – Teacher Conference

Euphemia had just sat down for breakfast when the tapping of an owl on the kitchen window startled her.

The elderly witch sighed as she took in the sight of the all too familiar owl.

She pottered over to the window and opened it slightly wondering what mischief and chaos her son had been causing this time.

The owl fluttered inside her kitchen and dropped the letter on the table hooting softly as she landed on the back of one of the pine wood chairs.

As a way to avoid discovering what James had done this time, Euphemia began to root through the cupboards to find the owl a treat.

Eventually Euphemia picked up the envelope with the familiar, elegant handwriting of Minerva McGonagall on the front and sliced it open.

 _Dear Mrs Potter,_

 _It is with a heavy heart and great regret that I find myself writing to you again so soon, but I fear I have been left with no other choice._

 _Last night your son James was involved in a particularly nasty incident with another one of our students which has resulted in a quite serious injury._

 _I worry that if this behaviour continues, I will have no other choice but to exclude James from Hogwarts._

 _However at this moment in time I think that a good, sharp shock should do the trick which is why I would appreciate it if you or your husband could come to Hogwarts for a conference of sorts with myself and James._

 _Please inform me of your answer by owl at your earliest convenience along with a selection of times and dates that would suit you._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Head of Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Euphemia frowned as she penned a swift response to Minerva, unable to believe just how close her son was to being excluded from Hogwarts at the age of fifteen.

As she sealed the envelope the witch couldn't help but feel as though she and her husband were the ones to blame for James' behaviour issues. They had been too liberal with their son and allowed him to get away with far too much growing up, but that had to stop now. Her son needed to learn that actions have consequences, and she would fully support whatever actions Minerva felt to be appropriate.

* * *

Euphemia listened intensely as Minerva explained what her son had done, her facial expression becoming increasingly appalled. She couldn't believe that James had done something so disgraceful and it made her feel so ashamed to have raised a child who could cause someone so much pain.

"James, how could you do such a thing?" Euphemia asked when Minerva had finished talking, feeling the need to blink back her tears for the poor victim of her son's prank.

The teenager, who eyes had been trained on the floor for the entire time finally lifted them to look at his mother. He had shame written all across his features, and Euphemia fought the urge to soften her expression.

"I didn't mean to mum, I swear," he whispered. "He was just supposed to get a fright. I never meant for it to end this way."

"That's not the point James," Euphemia said, trying to keep her voice even. "The fact that you even thought of such a thing is disgraceful."

"I'm sorry," the teenager muttered, shifting nervously in his seat.

"Tell that to the boy in the hospital wing," Euphemia fumed, raising her voice to her son for the first time. "Heaven only knows what his mother must think of you right now."

James lowered his eyes back to the ground. He couldn't bear to see his mother so angry and disappointed with him.

"Professor McGonagall," Euphemia said removing her focus from her son. "You have my full support in whatever punishment you wish to give my son."

"At this point in time I see it fit to suspend your son's Hogsmeade privileges, and for the rest of the year remove him from the Quidditch team," Minerva stated with a heavy heart, knowing that it would damage her house's chances of winning the cup. "And he will serve detention every Saturday up until the end of term."

Euphemia nodded her head in agreement, and turned to face her son who she could sense knew that he had gotten off lightly.

"You should consider yourself lucky that Professor McGonagall has not excluded you," Euphemia said softly.

"I know," James muttered. "I really am sorry mum."

"I know you are son, but now you need to make more of an effort to be the best you can be," Euphemia told him. "Remember James, actions have consequences."

James nodded his head. "I will mum."

The rest of the meeting with Minerva passed quickly and soon Euphemia was heading home hoping that her son had learnt his lesson. She had a feeling that if something like this ever happened again he would not be so fortunate.

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know your thoughts in a review**

 **All feedback is appreciated**

 **xoxo**


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